


I know better than to want you (but I succumb to you without a doubt)

by komkommertijd



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fights, Getting Back Together, Lawyers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Online Dating, Relationship Advice, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25411900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komkommertijd/pseuds/komkommertijd
Summary: “It might get boring at some point,” he weighs in, the last chance for Nico to reconsider and pull out of the situation before he gets tangled up in a mess of emotions again, before it's too late and it hurts too much all over again. It's reckless, might end with him losing it all right then and there, but it's only fair.“I think I can do boring with you.”
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	I know better than to want you (but I succumb to you without a doubt)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to another random idea I had after watching a movie (this time it was Newness, you can find it on Netflix I think)! It's been a while but now that I'm finally chilling at home and the usual "idk what to do" mood of summer break is slowly settling in, I'm finally back with something new. I wrote half of this either in Wrocław or on the train back home from there and none of it makes sense, so I guess that's the vibe we're going for here?
> 
> A massive thank you and the biggest virtual hug goes out to the amazing [scarletred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletred/pseuds/scarletred) who encouraged me to finish this and helped me to get over the initial panic of writing a new pairing, I love you, bro skdhs. I'm still unsure about the issue I have with fucking characterizations up but it's fiction, baby, so I just rolled with it and hoped it would turn out fine.
> 
> There's not much else left to be said about this, except that I really, really hope that you enjoy this one, especially because experimenting with new pairings is always a bit of a struggle to me and I just generally hope that it turned out okay.
> 
> Thank you so much for clicking on this and deciding to read it, that means the world to me and I appreciate it a lot and thank you for any kind of feedback, I'm grateful for it all. Thanks for ignoring my stupid mistakes as well, English is not my native language and sometimes that shows.
> 
> The title is from [Drown](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RVtBlHFKj51Ipvpfv5ER4?si=AHgk7xcmRUqi6ILc3GkqiQ) by Martin Garrix and Clinton Kane because I listened to that song on repeat while writing this and also because I'm just uncreative like that? I don't know if it even fits, I'm feeling too nauseous to figure that out 
> 
> Have fun reading this now :)
> 
> (You can find me on [Tumblr](https://komkommertijd.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk or just take a look at it, feel free to visit me there)

Up, down. Up, down. Up, up, up, down. Down. Up, up again, down.

“Nico, are you even listening?”

He looks up from his phone screen when spoken to, aware that he probably wouldn't have noticed if not addressed by his name. He lifts his head to look at his friend across the table fully, arching one of his eyebrows in question, slowly, carefully. The phone screen turns off, Seb takes a sip of his coffee. The cup makes a noise neither of them pays any attention to when it meets the table.

“How's that big case going? Still keeping you awake at night?” Sebastian repeats, making Nico shrug. His phone vibrates, his fingers itch. He puts it down on the empty space on the bench next to him, not looking away from where he's staring at Sebastian.

“Do you ever not talk about work?” he asks back, instead of giving an actual reply. He certainly doesn't feel like doing that, avoiding the topic during his lunch break usually. Seb is just too nosy for his own good, smiles at the question, and shakes his head, a light chuckle breaking free and making his shoulders move. Up and down. Nico can see the screen of his phone lighting up in the corner of his eye. He reaches for his salad fork to keep himself occupied.

Working as a lawyer is not exactly the easiest job most of the time, even less so when you're supposed to secure a few million dollars for some company owner going through a divorce and a scandal of some sort that he really doesn't want to think about at the moment. Sometimes Nico questions his decisions. Then again, he's one of the best lawyers around, and one of the most expensive ones if Seb gets a say in it, so it's not a surprise that he works on a lot of headache-inducing cases.

Somehow he manages to distract Sebastian from the topic. Their conversation shifts to books and Italian coffee – not exactly Nico's favorite topics but a million times better than work. Seb seems to enjoy the conversation-turned-monologue though, so Nico reaches for his phone again, keeps swiping, listens to Sebastian's rambling with one ear.

Up, down, up, up, down. Down. Up.

* * *

Up, up, up, down. Up. Down.

It's a match.

Lewis's phone vibrates when he swipes down on the next try, the first less bland appearance on his screen. It's a slight triumph, feels mild but satisfying and he's curious to find out more about the stranger, someone who apparently didn't find his pictures too bad. He's not insecure about them, why would someone pick a picture they're insecure about for a dating profile? but it's nice to know that some stranger seems to agree with him.

He looked nice too when Lewis swiped down. He wouldn't have done it otherwise. Nico looks like a rather normal, young man, showing barely enough effort to sneak a smile on his face in most pictures. Someone normal is probably not what someone would deem fitting for Lewis but then again, what is the definition of normal? He doesn't know how insane Nico could possibly be.

Probably not a serial killer though, Lewis thinks, judges that by the picture of Nico feeding ducks in some park. He smiles at the image in his head, taps on random buttons on his screen, somehow ends up in an empty chatroom, Nico's name, and the tiny green dot that indicates that he is currently active and using the app splayed across the top.

“Lunch break's over!” George informs him when he pokes his head through the door, smiling before he disappears again. Lewis nods, doesn't know why he does it with no one there to see it, and turns his attention back to his phone once more. He licks his lips, wipes his hand on the fabric of his jeans, writes a short message. He turns his phone off immediately after hitting the send button, swallowing down the weird embarrassment he's suddenly feeling, and gets back to the more important tasks at hand.

* * *

It is Friday evening and Nico has no idea what made him leave his flat and switch comfortable after-work sweatpants for skinny jeans and a nice shirt that he kept ironed neatly in the back of his closet for occasions like this one. It is not a what, rather a who. A who called Lewis, whom Nico knows nothing but the bare essentials about and who somehow got him to go out on a Friday after work, after some good 40 hours in the office and at least ten behind his desk at home, without a single complaint anywhere in his conscious mind.

That is, however, slowly changing now that Lewis is running late. Nico keeps darting his eyes from his expensive watch to his phone screen and from the screen to the door of the bar and nothing happens. The minute hand of his watch moves one position further down the curved display, some random guy almost spills a sticky drink on his shoes and his voice is nervous and slurred over the thrumming beat of the music when he hastily apologizes to Nico, who rolls his eyes and lazily swats his hand at the stranger.

“Already getting started without me?” another unknown voice asks next to him and he's faced with Lewis's smile when he looks back up from his shoes, which, after further investigation, did not escape the tacky liquid. He forces a smile of his own onto his face, reaching over to remove his coat from the barstool he tried to save for Lewis, who gets the gesture and takes a seat next to him, leaning over the counter to order a drink for himself. Nico taps his fingers against his glass, causing the expensive whiskey inside it to ripple.

“It's not my fault you're late.”

Whiskey is not really a drink for a Friday night in a bar probably but it's been a while since Nico last went out for a drink. He doubts he would've been able to convince himself to come if he didn't promise his head some strong drinks beforehand. Lewis is polite enough to thank the bartender who shoves his beverage across the table without really paying much attention to the customer at all, and Nico doesn't know whether it annoys him or not but it definitely does something to him, something he cannot grasp onto just yet.

“I really should apologize. I was still at work and some customer came in right before closing time and needed help and- I shouldn't try to find excuses. Thank you for waiting for me,” Lewis eventually replies and Nico remembers his last words only faintly enough to nod and loudly mumble because he does want Lewis to be able to catch what he has to say, something about it being okay and not an issue.

Somehow it's easy to fall into conversation with Lewis, who is, and Nico really tries to keep that in mind, still nothing more than a stranger who was kind enough to match him on a dating app, which is, quite frankly, not really the story of how they met he wants to tell his grandchildren one day. He's getting a slight bit ahead of himself there and tries to focus his mind on something else than stupid wishful thinking. The hole in Lewis's jeans that lets his knee poke out, for example, his interesting tattoos or maybe, which is probably the best idea of all, the words he is saying in response to Nico's question.

By the end of the night, Nico is blissfully tipsy to an amount that still allows him to behave mostly like a decent human being and he's got one more number to add to the contacts in his phone. Parting ways with Lewis feels like the most bittersweet goodbye, the melancholy of leaving right now and the excitement of a possible reunion in the future mixing with the alcohol in Nico's stomach when he ducks down to press a brief kiss to Lewis's cheek before he whispers something about how grateful he is for the evening spent together in the minimal space between them.

When his head hits the soft pillow and his back starts to ache with the ballast of an entire week slowly letting go of him, he sighs softly in the dark comfort of his bedroom, overthinks the events of the evening and squeezes his eyes shut when embarrassment settles in, pressing against his heart and confusing him immensely. It's all so much unlike him.

Oh, he's so fucked.

* * *

Dating, as in, going out for dinner after work and sending text messages to a designated person to keep them updated about one's day and receiving similar descriptions in return, is not really something Lewis does normally. However, as established previously in many long hours and sleepless nights spent thinking about the issue, nothing in Lewis's life, or anyone's for that matter, is ever really to be considered normal.

Some customer almost hits him in the head with a surfboard when he spares his tired mind a second of rest, which is wasted by thinking about Nico anyway, and George sends a suspicious look his way, which Lewis tries to ignore but really can't. He rolls his eyes before he puts on a smile to deal with more customers. The people coming into the shop are generally pretty chill, that's probably just the vibe surrounding board sports, so it usually isn't too bad putting up with them. Lewis likes his job, he genuinely does, even with George and Alex as co-workers, who are usually the number one cause of his headaches.

There's a new message on his lock screen when he finally gets to escape the shop for lunch and he can't really help the smile that sneaks onto his face when he reads Nico's contact name at the top of the notification. His stomach does something weird, he blames it on being hungry for the time being. It's easier than coming to terms with bigger things.

* * *

“Move in with me.”

It bursts out of him before Nico can even process the thought and he can hear the blankets shuffle when Lewis turns around on the mattress to look at him. There's something unreadable hidden behind the glint of amusement in his eyes.

In hindsight, three seconds later when Nico's brain catches up with his dumb mouth, it was stupid to ask. They have only been going out for a few weeks at that point and barely 14 days have passed since Lewis started staying the night at Nico's place almost daily. It probably simply felt too domestic to Nico, eating breakfast together before work and the amazing coffee Lewis provided him with, the goodbye kisses by the door, legs entwined underneath the blanket at night, domestic on a level that left nothing but this single thought in Nico's conscious mind, escaping him now all of a sudden and without a warning.

Are they even a thing? Something that goes further than dates and shared fruit bowls in the morning? Nico doesn't know and suddenly he's anxious to find out, the emptiness in his stomach swirling around with the feeling of panic trying to tie it into a tiny ball, cramping inside of him. Lewis smiles at him, softly, in an attempt to soothe his nerves, apparently sensing that Nico is genuinely worried about his answer. He wraps his arms around Nico and pulls him closer, into the comfortable warmth of his body, and it feels like a bit of Nico's sanity being restored.

“Yeah, of course, that'd be great. Let's try it.”

* * *

“You look happy,” Alex remarks, shoe cartons stacked on top of his arms as he walks past Lewis, who is busy unlocking the front door for the customers. He makes his way through the shop, only barely avoiding bumping into George, who is dragging a carton with Burton snowboards into the shop room to put the new arrivals into the rack.

“You may not believe it but I actually am,” he replies while digging through a drawer behind the counter to find a pen, smiling to himself at the thought of his source of happiness. George whistles a pop song melody while he struggles with the boards, trying to find out which size to put where. It's rather quiet in the shop beside that and Lewis enjoys the relaxed morning mood for as long as he can.

“So, what's his name?”

When Lewis finally resurfaces with a pen in hand, Alex is leaning across the counter, arms crossed on it. He's smiling like an idiot, satisfied to have found something to annoy and tease Lewis with. His name tag looks crooked, pinned to the dark blue shirt he's wearing with little care, barely put on slow enough not to poke his nipple or some other obscure body part he could possibly reach with the needle. Lewis debates whether he should actually make the mistake of telling his co-workers about Nico.

What could go wrong? A lot, if he's being honest. But on the other hand, they moved in together, so the boys will find out at some point anyway, whether Lewis wants that or not.

“Nico.”

George whistles, Alex suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. If Lewis wasn't wearing a base cap he would slam his head into the counter.

* * *

When they first argue, it's stupid. Nico knows that it is.

It's almost 11 pm when he comes home from work that day, exhausted and about ready to fall into bed and simply fall asleep. His shoulders hurt from sitting hunched over documents, books, and his laptop all day, his eyes are stinging from the lack of sleep and his stomach growls with hunger. It's not the best condition for any kind of conversation. Lewis says something that, through the haze of his slowly melting brain, sounds vaguely like he's complaining about the fact that Nico is barely home anymore.

He argues that he has work to do, important work for highly-paying clients, that it's not forever, that once he finishes his current case he will be home more. Lewis looks hurt, looking back it seems reasonable, and it takes a lot to make him angry but now there's something visible in his eyes that looks a lot like anger. He tries to keep calm when he replies to Nico's loud words but can't keep it up, getting frustrated as well. Nico knows that he shouldn't have let it come that far in the first place but he's too tired to care and yelling is weirdly soothing for his brain. It only stops feeling good when the front door is slammed shut, the bang making him flinch. He sinks down to the floor and leans against the couch, the cushion digging into his shoulders. It's quiet in the flat now, he has no idea where Lewis is going, he's too exhausted to follow him or call him. Instead, Nico drags his heavy limbs to bed, not even caring enough about his hygiene to brush his teeth or change his clothes that night, snuggling into the blanket and hiding his face in Lewis's pillow.

It should be enough of a warning.

* * *

“Lewis, I love you, mate, but you can't sleep on my couch like twice a week.”

“Our couch,” Max loudly corrects Daniel's words from where he's silently struggling with avocado toast in the kitchen.

It's not like Lewis is very keen to stay with his high school best friend and his passive-aggressive second half but the only other option would have been asking George and Alex to stay on their worn-out couch in the apartment they share with some kid called Lando, who visits the shop way too often, so it's been his only escape. After the initial dispute about working hours, business trips, and hurtful words getting thrown around, Lewis basically accepted arguing with Nico as normality, as far as that goes in his life, and preferred to leave the flat after picking out fresh clothes and doing some laundry. They don't talk a lot, whenever he tries talking to Nico it ends in yelling, it seems to be the only tone Nico knows nowadays. It hurts but winter is approaching in huge steps with colder days, darker afternoons and a spiking interest in snowboards and skis, which means that Lewis has a lot of work to do, from ordering new boards to picking out boots for customers, giving them advice on what to buy and finding the perfect fit for them. He manages to smile through it and begins avoiding Nico more and more.

“Yeah, our couch, whatever. Anyway, Lew. You need to fix whatever weird relationship you have with that grumpy lawyer,” Daniel continues his useless advice and throws one of the decorative pillows, probably picked out by Max although neither of his hosts knows how to decorate an apartment, right at Lewis's face. Obviously with no malice behind it, otherwise he wouldn't have missed.

He sighs when he gets up and follows Daniel to the kitchen where Max is triumphantly making coffee now that he's done preparing breakfast for the most part. Lewis sits down on his usual chair, gets to fight with the cat Max claimed he never wanted for all of five seconds before Max gets the tiny house monster off him, claiming that he needs to protect the poor baby from the guy sleeping on the couch. Daniel shrugs and hands one of the coffee mugs to Lewis before taking his own.

“I don't know how to fix this.”

Max sits down next to Daniel with his own plate, scrambled egg soaking the toast and it almost makes Lewis gag but he's too polite to actually do that. He looks like he's thinking about Lewis's words, frowning while shoveling egg into his mouth. Daniel sips his coffee, not willing to participate in a conversation about his fiance's breakfast preferences for the sake of his own life.

“Doesn't Nico work with Sebastian? I think you mentioned it at some point. I know Seb well and if he's complained about the same Nico in our conversations-”

Lewis looks up expectantly and is now forced to watch Max chewing on more egg and a bit of the toast. Daniel shrugs and smiles angelically when Max squints at him sharply. Lewis wants to gag again.

“Anyway, Nico studied three other things before switching to law. He's one of those people who get bored easily, right? You know, really getting into something for like a week before finding a new hyper fixation. Maybe he's not used to dating someone for longer than a month or whatever. Talk to him about that and figure out whether that's worth working for.”

It sounds like pretty good advice, which is not something Lewis is used to coming from Max, who looks like he knows that very well. He shrugs, eyes unbothered, takes a sip of his coffee. To him, it all seems obvious, apparently.

“It's just, that's how love works, you know? You gotta work for it. I wouldn't survive living with Daniel for a day if I didn't do that.”

Daniel looks like he wants to complain but Max blindly reaches over to pat his cheek, completely unbothered. It's almost comical, yet Lewis doesn't even dare to snort at the interaction, instead keeping a straight face just like Max, who still looks ridiculous in his chequered boxer shorts and a t-shirt that must be Daniel's, Max would never buy a shirt with _Not only am I sexy, I'm also Australian_ printed on it, for multiple rather obvious reasons, despite trying to be serious.

“You get it. Talk and figure it out. If he loves you, you'll manage. Do you love him?”

It's suddenly pretty quiet inside the kitchen, except for Daniel slowly chewing his toast. Both he and Max are staring at Lewis now, waiting for an answer to the rather invasive question. Lewis shouldn't complain, sleeping on their couch is rather invasive too. He thinks about it, hard because even though this possibility has been on his mind for quite a while already, he's never really actively thought about it.

Does he love Nico? _Love_ love?

“I do.”

Max nods, seemingly pleased, and turns back to his plate to poke his fork through another piece of the wobbly egg. Daniel smiles behind his coffee mug, takes an obnoxiously loud sip and Lewis takes a deep breath before he continues eating his breakfast as well.

“Thanks, bud,” Daniel says when he hands Lewis his backpack later. It feels a bit like getting sent off to school again and it's strangely comforting.

“No worries, I don't think I could've listened to you guys fucking for much longer anyway.”

Daniel rolls his eyes and shoves Lewis out the door but it's nothing more than a gentle push and he puts all the comfort he can convert without words into the motion. Lewis smiles at him, showing genuine gratefulness. They used to be best friends for a reason, he thinks.

“I feel sorry for your cat,” he says before he closes the door and Daniel laughs so loudly that he can hear it halfway down the first flight of stairs. Max is definitely going to kill him when he gets the change to.

* * *

The door is heavy when Nico pulls it open and it falls close with an unwanted loud thud that makes him jump in surprise. It's rather quiet inside, although there's someone in the shop whistling some random melody, and warmth envelopes him when he makes his way around a stack of packages. His nose feels oddly tingly, considering that the fall temperatures are nowhere near freezing so far. He takes a look around the shop, eyes moving from one rack to the other, carefully taking in the various color of snowboards and stacked skateboards, and down to his watch again to keep track of time. His lunch break isn't endless.

The shop is cramped, less than Nico imagines but also not too much, cozy and inviting with a relaxing impact he can't really explain. His shoulders relax the further he moves into the store, though the anxiety of what awaits him at the end of his mission still sticks to his skin, unease visible in the way he fiddles with his coat. He suspects Lewis to be busy in some form or another despite the shop being close to empty. The whistling hasn't stopped, somewhere there's a muffled voice explaining something about carbon fibers in snowboards.

He steps up to the counter, clears his throat as quiet as possible, finally lets go of the fabric of his coat.

“One second mate, I just have to-” Lewis stops mid-sentence when he resurfaces from where he's been rummaging around behind the counter and his smile drops into an unreadable line as he recognizes Nico.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can I not visit you at work?” he asks back, unnecessarily. Knows that this kind of back questioning will end in yet another fight. He's not very keen to argue with Lewis during his lunch break in the middle of a shop that is known for chill vibes or whatever surfers call it.

“I'm too busy to argue right now, you can come back later for that. I'll ask Alex to make you some coffee so you don't waste your break entirely,” Lewis says and he sounds unusually quiet, tired, and small. There's no anger behind his words, no fire that tries to burn and hurt Nico in self-defense this time and it makes his heart ache in pain. He feels horribly sorry for everything that has happened and yet he's too proud to cave and apologize. He shouldn't act like that, not towards Lewis of all people.

“I just wanted to apologize. I miss you.”

When the smile reappears on Lewis's face, it doesn't reach his eyes at all. It looks just as exhausted, tired from the same old excuses. Nico hates himself for being the reason behind it, for putting this all out on Lewis, all his doubts and pent-up anger. The more he notices, the more determined he gets to fix this. He needs to, not for himself, for both of them, and realizing it only then hurts in an unexpected way.

Lewis seems to see it in his expression of remorse and sighs softly, putting down the shin pads he was still holding on to with a vice-like grip, to give Nico his undivided attention. He keeps quiet for a while, thinking about Nico's words, debating whether he should trust them this time, whether it's time to not give in anymore, whether Nico deserves yet another chance or not, whether it's finally too much.

“Okay. We'll talk tonight if that's fine?”

Nico nods, hope slowly detaching the prying fingers of anxiety from his heavy heart. It's a compromise, a mutual starting point. They're willing to work this out and Nico almost dares to feel sanguine about this.

* * *

“I'm an idiot,” Nico begins when they're both sitting at the dinner table at his, their flat, and Lewis pokes his fork through the spaghetti on his plate for a while before his brain begins to form an answer. It feels awkward, being there, just the two of them in their secluded four walls, locked in like teenagers in a wardrobe, only to be let out once they finally kiss. Except there's no tension, no nervousness concerning that issue. He swallows, looks up from his plate. Nico is looking back at him expectantly and Lewis doesn't know whether it's an expectation he can meet.

“I know, we both are. But we're also here to work this out, right? That's one step in the right direction.”

Nico hums affirmatively and starts spinning his fork in his hand to roll up the pasta, metal scratching against the plate. It's all wrong, they shouldn't do this while eating dinner as if it's a normal day, a day without any issues. Neither of them pretends that everything's fine anymore but it still feels off. Lewis shifts on his chair.

“I get bored easily, you know that. I was scared of getting bored of us, too. I'm not saying that it happened but I- I've never... None of my relationships ever worked out. It was always either one night stands or week-long affairs, but nothing that's lasted.”

Lewis just listens and chews on his food, it seems like the best thing he could do at the moment, and Nico's knuckles turn white around the fork. His gaze left Lewis's face and focused on his plate a while ago and he's still not looking up, seemingly ashamed, gut filling with despair and Lewis feels helpless, unable to do anything to soothe the pain.

“I guess I panicked when the high of a new relationship started to wear off, I've never experienced it before because no one ever stayed long enough for it to happen. I was scared and well, hurting you was easier than hurting myself. It was wrong and I know that now.”

Stomaching Nico's words is harder than anticipated and Lewis can feel his appetite fading with every swirl of his fork through the spaghetti. It's his turn to speak, to try and explain his version of the story. It takes courage to open up.

“A friend of mine suspected that. He used to work with Seb on a lawsuit against his father and well, you know Seb loves to complain about you. Doesn't matter, the point is, I understand. I get that this is scary and new and different. But you have to learn that you can't just take your anger out on other people and expect them to deal with it and be fine. We can work on that. Together. We can try.”

“Please,” Nico replies, instantly as if he's been waiting to say that ever since Lewis started talking. Their eyes finally meet in the middle. Silence surrounds them, the tension slowly unravels. Unsure smiles. Nico's hand feels warm when Lewis reaches out to envelope it with his own. A sense of security tingles in his fingertips, a feeling of coming home.

“It might get boring at some point,” he weighs in, the last chance for Nico to reconsider and pull out of the situation before he gets tangled up in a mess of emotions again, before it's too late and it hurts too much all over again. It's reckless, might end with him losing it all right then and there, but it's only fair.

“I think I can do boring with you.”

* * *

“Okay. Three, two, one.”

Nico clicks the delete button barely a second after Lewis finishes the countdown, watching how the tiny white symbol with the blue heart fading into green disappears from both phone displays. It feels like a weight lifting off his shoulders and he can feel a smile forming on Lewis's lips against his cheek. It's the right thing to do, another step in the right direction, the direction in which they're going together now.

Together, because that's how it's always worked best. It always comes back to that in the end, like a boomerang thrown right.

Nothing has ever felt better and Nico can't help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest when Lewis tackles him onto the couch and wraps his arms around him.


End file.
